


An Obvious Fact

by the_noble_bachelorette84



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Fingering, NSFW, Restraints, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 14:03:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3293066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_noble_bachelorette84/pseuds/the_noble_bachelorette84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has always said that there is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact. None more obvious than his lack of attraction to Molly Hooper. Did that mean that there was also no fact more deceptive?</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Obvious Fact

**Author's Note:**

> In celebration of my 600th Instagram post @wecumforthebatch! Thank you all, lovely followers and DEAREST friends! You know how much I love you!

Sherlock sat smoking on his sofa. He shouldn't be. He should be using the patch. Or patches. But he was out. Or rather, they were out of reach. He couldn't be bothered to retrieve one from the kitchen counter. However his Persian slipper lay tucked under him, full of cigarettes and equipped with a lighter.

 

He was working out a problem. The obvious fact of his feelings of indifference toward Molly Hooper. He was Sherlock Holmes. He didn't have desires. Or needs. He had his work. And that satisfied his mind. But this fact didn't account for his dreams about her. Or the state of his body when he woke, rigid with what he could not fathom to be lust.

 

There was one way to find out.

 

_Baker St. ASAP. -SH_

 

He texted Molly. She replied about five minute later.

 

_I'm on my way home from a date. Will this keep until tomorrow? -m_

 

Honestly. What did he see in her. Why else would he say "ASAP!?" Of course it was urgent.

 

_I'm afraid it's vital. Have the cab bring you here instead of home, and I'll pay your fare when we've finished. -SH_

 

_Ian is driving me. -m_

 

_Oh, then that will be perfect. He won't mind or charge you extra. Come as you are, Molly, it really is quite serious. -S_

_Fine._

 

She was irritated. He could tell. But he couldn't focus on that. He had to prepare his mind for this experiment.

 

Soon he heard muffled goodbyes and car doors closing in the street, the front door of 221 opening, and Molly's tense footfalls through the foyer. Mrs. Hudson was clearly already asleep or she would have welcomed her warmly. Good. Delays were not a part of his plan.

 

His experiment was all laid out in his mind. A to Zed. And until the door to his flat opened, he was more than satisfied.

 

There stood Molly, in a form fitting, navy blue sheath dress, cut low. She had assembled as the rest of the ensemble a strand of black pearls that probably wouldn't have been necessary, matching earrings, and sheer black stockings under a pair of chic, black, peep-toe ankle boots. She had been wearing, but now had draped over her arm, a black blazer to staunch the chill of the damp, spring evening. She had been to a nice restaurant and maybe the theater, but his deductions couldn't be trusted just now.

 

His body was responding more severely to her than he had anticipated. His trousers felt tight. His shirt and dressing gown too warm. The toes of his bare feet wiggled nervously against the floor of his sitting room. He stammered for a moment, then muttered a compliment of some sort.

 

"Thank you, Sherlock." She hung her jacket on the nearby coat rack and turned to face him. "Now. Business. What are we working on? A case? An experiment? It better be bloody vital, because I liked Ian a lot and I think he was keen to--"

 

Sherlock strode quickly to her, took her face in his massive, elegant hands and kissed her furiously! She didn't move. She was a statue. He backed away, holding her face, and examining it. Her eyes, though closed, conveyed shock, but to his glee, no disdain!

 

His happiness was short lived.

 

_SLAP!_

 

It was his turn to look shocked. He held his left cheek, compulsorily.

 

"Not quite the reaction I was expecting!"

 

She pulled him to her and kissed him even more vigorously.

 

"That's more like it." He mumbled into her open mouth. She pushed him away.

 

"What is this, Sherlock!?"

 

"Isn't it obvious?"

 

"No it bleeding well isn't! You pull me out of the car where I'm having a rather pleasant time, and impede me from having a much needed shag with a man off whose arse you could bounce a penny! What do you mean by all this!?"

 

Sherlock advanced on her slowly.

 

"This." He caressed her cheek. "I mean this." He ran his thumb over her plump, cherry-stained lips, licked his own, and kissed her, chastely. He held onto her as if their lives depended on it. His need grew as his kiss sped. Their breathing quickening in unison. Sherlock groped for Molly's zipper.

 

"Sherlock?" Molly said, barely able to move her lips, he was pressed to her so needfully.

 

"Yes, Molly, dear." He heard her moan, and he was certain it was about the word "dear."

 

"I don't want you to hurt me." she said, timidly.

 

"Nonsense. Just tell me if I'm too rough or you think I may bruise you."

 

"No, prat! I'm not worried about the pain. I don't think you will injure my body. But I AM worried you will break my heart. I couldn't take that. What's to stop you finishing this 'experiment' and finding that I'm not what you really want. You put me in a cab and send me home? Then the rest of our careers, you come into my morgue as if nothing ever happened, and we just…carry on?!"

 

"What if it's just the opposite, Molly?"

 

"What?!"

 

"What if YOU break MY heart? You think you've got these unrequited feelings for me, but if you felt I was…substandard as a lover, intolerably so, so much that you couldn't continue on a romantic path, that would hurt me, as well. You don't understand."

 

"What do you mean, 'I don't understand'?!"

 

He sighed. He'd have to tell her.

 

"I've been dreaming. You've been there. Many nights."

 

She was stunned into silence. Aghast. Not believing.

 

"Most nights, we're together. We have dinner, watch films either at our homes or at the cinema, we snog, often on my couch, and sometimes we make love. And understand me when I say that we make love. We do not simply have intercourse. We don't just connect physically. And having those dreams may not be enough on their own, but sometimes I dream that I can't get to you. That we have been separated by chasms, or walls, or even, on one horrifying occasion, death. I woke up that night in tears and cold sweats. Believe me when I say that the only thing I fear more than not having you is losing you. It would destroy me, Molly."

 

Tears fell from her eyes. She must have understood now.

 

"Okay."

 

"Yes?"

 

"Yes, Sherlock. I'm obviously ready, and now that you are, let's give this a try!" her 'what the hell' attitude was less than preferable, but he'd just have to convince her that he was sincere.

 

He grinned his widest and pushed her up against the door of letter b and explored her body over her dress with his hands as he resumed his lip work. She gripped his curls, holding him as firmly as possible to her mouth. He wiggled the hem of her dress up over her hips, revealing that what he had originally assumed to be pantyhose were actually thigh high stockings attached to suspenders under, yes under, pair of jet black, string bikini knickers. His eyes widened and he reached for her zipper again, this time more urgently. He pulled it slowly down her back and pulled the garment off with a flourish, tossing it across the room.

 

He kissed his way down her neck and chest to the soft cups of her bra. He unhooked its front clasp and began his diligent and thorough oral assault on her tender, erect nipples. She moaned gleefully as he went.

 

He backed up a bit to slip her panties off.

 

"Your wrists?"

 

She presented them to him, close together, and with a sort of fearful excitement in her eyes. He looped her knickers around her wrist and raised them above her head so that they hooked over the coat hanger on the back of the door.

 

"Still, yes?"

 

She only nodded, which appeased him. No need to get all dominant on her. At least not yet.

 

Sherlock nudged Molly's ankles a bit and she willingly spread her legs further apart. He held her gaze as he slipped his index and middle fingers slowly into his mouth, moistening their tips on his tongue, wet with saliva.

 

His fingers maneuvered deftly over her sensitive body. He felt her moistening under his touch and slipped first one, then soon after, a second finger inside her. She moaned and gripped his hair tighter causing him to moan in pleasure as he kept his mouth busy on her breasts while his hand was otherwise occupied.

 

"Unnf, Sheeeerlock!" She moaned. He thought she might be getting close, and he desperately wanted to come with her. He undid his trousers and pulled them down just under his hips. He gave his already stiff member a few tugs as he examined Molly's trussed up body before him. She was exquisite and he couldn't wait to be inside her.

 

"Tease!" She responded to the smoldering glare he was giving her. He reached into his pocket and produced a foil packet. It wasn't often that he needed one, but he had been keeping them nearby in hopes that this situation would present itself. He tore the package open and rolled the condom onto his erection. He let her hands down, but looped them over his head and around his neck, instead of freeing them completely.

 

He braced his hands on the door on either side of her head. She wrapped her legs around him, the sensation of being surrounded by her already overwhelming. He placed himself at her entrance and, with her legs, she pulled him closer and further into her, both of them letting out moans at the pleasure of filling and being filled.

 

Sherlock's thrusts were slow and deep, very deep, at first. Molly had worked her wrists free of her slip knotted panties. She pulled her body closer to his and repositioned one of her arms for a firmer hold. He quickened with her cues, some very vocal. They were close. He kissed her neck and bit at her ear. She dug her nails into his back. They came together with a shudder that nearly took them both to the floor.

 

As their breathing slowed, they disentangled themselves, only slightly awkwardly.

 

"Well, that was…" Molly said.

 

"Wasn't it?" Sherlock agreed.

 

She looked at her knickers hanging from her forearm. "Looks like this method of restraint is not the most effective. Who would have thought?"

 

"Indeed. I'll have to get something a bit more reliable next time." he said, smirking coyly at her. He was filled with excitement at the thought of next time.

 

"Or maybe I'm the one who will tie YOU up!" She pulled the tie belt from his dressing gown and took his hand, dragging him off to his bedroom. Apparently next time was already here!


End file.
